The Gayest Story
by xElementFivex
Summary: In a world where sarcasm is lost and cliches rule supreme, Mello is just a hapless victim to his uber-gay, border-line retarded new roommate Matt. Parody.
1. Chapter 1

**Parodies make the world a better place.**

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Once, there was a series called Death Note. It was populated by a rich cast of diverse characters. Each of them had their distinct personalities and set of complicated motivations. There were reasons behind their actions and interactions with the rest of the cast. They were, in short, everything a well-developed character should be.

But this is fanfiction, so we're not going to talk about _those _characters. Instead we'll have vaguely veiled OC's masquerading as canon characters. Sounds fun, yes?

So in this pale imitation of a fully conceived plot, there were two boys named Matt and Mello. These two examples of complete lack of imagination lived in an orphanage called Wammy's House, in the beautiful English countryside. Now, the author's only ever been to England once, and really only saw Big Ben and that giant ferris wheel thing, so we're going to skip the descriptive part of the setting. You can just fill in your own ripped-straight-from-Wikipedia mental picture here.

But I digress. Back to our desperate teenage fantasies- I mean, our characters.

Mello was a tall, blonde piece of sex-on-a-stick. Or something else as equally and probably unintentionally awkward. He had long, straight hair and his face possessed features both masculine and feminine. It was sort of hard to define what he looked like, mostly because the author ahs only a vague idea of what combinations of facial features actually makes up an attractive human being. He was also wearing clothes. Clothes made out of sexy, sexy leather. For our purposes, we can just assume that these were magical, shrinking clothes, because everytime they're described, Mello somehow gains an inch of smooth, tanned flesh showing between the top of his pants and the hem of his shirt. We're also going to assume that by the end of the story he's wearing what is essentially a leather handkerchief.

And then there was Matt. He was tall and lanky and devoid of any original personality whatsoever. He liked to video games and smoke cigarettes and do other Matt-cliché type thing. His tousled locks were a bright, fire-engine red. Canon be damned. He was supposed to be written as laid back and easy to get along with, but for some reason he kept coming off as either whiny and borderline-retarded or a snarky asshole, depending on who you ask. Again, for our purposes here, we'll go with border-line retarded, since its easier to make fun of, and because the last thing your fanfiction should ever require is actual work.

One day, Roger, the man assigned the task of watching over all of Wammy's precious little cretins, decided to randomly have Matt and Mello share a room, despite the fact that both of them were getting along just fine where they were before. You know, because that's just what orphans need. A little more distress and uprooting in their lives.

"Matt, Mello," said Roger, who didn't deserve a description because he was old. "Introduce yourselves to your new roommate. Even though you would assume an orphanage that only takes handpicked geniuses wouldn't actually be so full that you two had never even seen each before."

Mello eyed Matt disinterestedly. He didn't really care if he got a new roommate. He might have been a bit rash and impulsive, but in no way did that make a border-line psychotic nutjob with a gun fetish. He really didn't understand where that particular characterization came from. "Hi."

"HI!" Matt shouted back. There was a gleam in the redhead's eye and a bounce in his step that spoke of a good, but simple nature. Or maybe he just had to go to the bathroom. Either one, really. "We're complete opposites! I wonder what kind of crazy hi-jinks we'll get up to as roommates! What a zany adventure!"

"Yeah, okay, that's great." Mello muttered. "I'm gonna go study now."

"Wait!" Matt shouted again. Didn't he have any other volume of voice? "I've changed my mind about the hi-jinks and shenanigans. I realized that no one would want to read that after the first chapter. Everyone knows the only thing worth reading is that yaoi shit. The awkward sex scenes written by thirteen year olds is the real reason people read fanfiction. So, in light of that, I'm in love with you!"

Mello stared at him in rising horror. "Come again now?"

"You ready to get our gay on?" Matt asked excitedly.

"No! I'm not!" Mello answered. "How is this even plausible. It takes years to build up that sort of connection with someone. Love has to be born out of deep trust and shared experiences. And why would you assume I'm gay?"

"It's _fanfiction, _duh. So you ready for all the sex?"

"Roger!" Mello turned the still-descriptionless man. "I want a different roommate. Hell, I'll even room with Near. Just get me away from this guy."

"You'll even room with Near?" Roger responded, stroking his chin with his finger and thinking hard. "You're clearly desperate. Well, in that case… no."

"Why not?"

"Because you're an orphan! And I'll be damned if you're going to be happy and safe from sexual assault on my watch!"

Mello turned his glance from Roger, who was smiling cruelly, to Matt, who was busy mouthing 'I love you' and making obscene finger gestures. "This," said Mello faintly, "is going to suck so hard."

"Nope," said Matt. "That would be you."

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**If I can't ruthlessly make fun of my own writing, then what joy is left in the world?**

**Reviews? Let me know how much I suck. =]**


	2. Chapter 2

"Ohhhhhh, MELLO!" Matt burst into the bathroom and yanked aside the shower curtain. Mello yelped in surprise and pain as his hands slipped from shampooing his hair and delivered a huge mass of soap suds directly into his eyes.

"Oh JESUS CHRIST!" he shouted. "Why the hell would you walk in on me like that? This is most painful thing that's ever happened to me! It's definitely more painful than getting half my face torched in some sort of gigantic explosion! Owwww!"

"Duh," Matt replied rolling his eyes. "Bursting in on you in the shower? That's like… the sexiest thing the author can think of. Because anyone soaked and naked is pretty much the hottest sight ever and most definitely looks nothing like a drowned rat."

Twenty minutes later, a thoroughly pissed but dry Mello sat in their tiny room watching Matt entertain himself with a DS. The author doesn't own a DS and didn't really want to put the time into figuring out what games come for it, so he was playing the always-fun button-mashing game. He would also occasionally smash the DS against his head and swallow the batteries. Truly, he was one of Wammy's finest.

"So what do you want to do today?" Mello asked, from his position near the door. It was the only standing space in the room and his left arm was sort of twisted back behind his body to fit, but Matt was sprawling across the tiny bed so it was the only place left. You would have thought a place as rich as Wammy's would have bigger rooms, but everyone knows that small living spaces only lead to irresistible feelings of true love and never to irritation or the sudden desire to throttle your roommate.

"We've got three option," Matt replied, swallowing another battery. "Sex-"

"No."

"A supposedly exciting and humorous adventure that somehow manages to be both unique in its ridculousness yet at the same time so cliché and boring and overused that the reader wants to smash their computer over their own head to make it stop. Or we can have a threesome with Near."

"Yeah, I'll go with the take-a-retard-to-the-mall day. Where are we going?"

"Hmmm," Matt furrowed his eyebrows as he thought. Clearly it was a difficult task for him. Mello sighed and wondered why the hell his awesome leather vest had somehow turned into a leather tube top overnight. He shrugged and put it on anyway, exposing 2.798 inches of smooth, tanned flesh. "We could go shopping!"

"Awesome," said Mello. "Just what every teenage boy wants to do. Clearly the author has a flawless understanding on the inner workings of the opposite sex. Where is there to shop around here?"

"Well, there's the American Apparel, American Eagle, and that place down the road that sells all those shorts made out of material that looks like the American flag."

Mello frowned. "Aren't we supposed to be in England?"

"But the author doesn't know anything about England!" Matt replied in exasperation. "That would take, like… research and stuff. We could use some popular British slang though. That would definitely make us seem cultured and not like we're trying to imitate a culture we know nothing about. Bloody hell!"

Mello shook his head. "No. Just no."

"Tea and crumpets!"

"Stop it."

"God save the Queen!"

"Shut up."

"Blackadder! Dr. Who! Skins!"

"Stop naming British TV shows!"

"Fine," Matt replied."Be uncultured then. Everyone knows people from America suck. Especially southerners. There's nothing rich and diverse about their heritage at all."

The two glared at each other. As sapphire orbs met emerald ones, everyone suddenly thought they were at a jewelry store. Then the author remembered she was supposed to be describing actual human beings. Mello felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He didn't like where this was heading. There was no way that the author thought two people getting into an argument and then staring each other down angrily was in any way a precursor to unbridled passion. There was also no way that the author should use a phrase like unbridled passion. That's just stupid sounding.

Then, with no proper buildup of context, Matt leaned over and kissed Mello. It was magical and puppies and rainbows fell through the heavens. They both kissed like sex gods, because let's face it. What teenage boy isn't?

"You realize," Matt said happily. "That now we have to have sex. There's no way people are gonna keep reading if there's no sex within the first three chapters.

"Goddammit." Mello muttered.

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**This is all you get for chapter two. Because you know. Fanfiction chapters shouldn't have to hard to write. That takes work and stuff.**

**Also, who can guess where I'm from after reading that! Haha**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is for Sabrina. Who is currently working on some art for the first chapter of this story! Chibi Matt and Mello are so cute. =]**

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Time passed for Mello and Matt. It was a lot of time and it wasn't very well described because transitions are difficult and take actual skill at writing. Matt spent most of this time playing Mario or Final Fantasy or Pong or whatever the cool kids these days are playing, and undergoing minor surgery to remove the dozen or so Double AA's from his stomach lining. Mello spent the time doing manly things; like painting his toenails and straightening his hair and occasionally hiding in the closet from Matt whenever he got all sex-crazed-nuts and retard-strong.

One day, a few months after they had moved in together, they were sitting in their room, which was no longer the size of a closet, because let's face it, consistency in writing is hard. As they sat, Mello thought, _'I wonder how many times the author can do a variation on the same lame, boring joke before people call her out on her lack of creativity and the general ass-pull that is her humor.'_ The answer to that, dear readers, is five and a half.

"Mello," Matt said seriously. Or as seriously as possible with his head stuffed through the sleevehole of his shirt and his pants on backward. Mello had been trying to teach him to dress himself in the morning. He figured another two weeks and Matt would have it down. "You need to stop skirting around this Mello. This is a yaoi story. It's even got the word gay in the title! The author's gonna lose her street cred if this story doesn't live up to its summary. And she needs that street cred! It's hard living in upper middle class white suburbia! When are you just gonna give it up and accept the fact that you and I are destined to be butt-buddies forever? It's like, written in the stars, man!"

"Matt, those are wads of glow in the dark you threw up there."

"Same, dif," Matt shrugged. "You know I'm just here for all the hot consensual ass rape anyway."

"I'm just gonna go ahead and add 'consensual' to the list of words you don't fully grasp the meaning of," said Mello with a sigh. "Besides Matt, we've been over this. You know I can't have sex with you until we're married. Everyone knows that if you have premarital sex you'll get pregnant. Or AIDS. Probably both. I just can't risk hurting you like that. Also, I like to shove my Mormon propaganda down your throat."

"What?"

"Oh sorry! Wrong series," Mello said, hastily putting away his body glitter. "But in all seriousness, I'm still not gay."

Matt thought for a moment and then flexed his bicep, "How bout now?"

"Nope."

He lifted his shirt to shove off his pale, scrawny gamer's chest. "This doing anything for ya?"

"Not even a little bit."

"I can shove my whole fist in my mouth. Wanna see that?"

"For the love of God, no."

"Hmmmm...," Matt looked disappointed. "But if we don't start with the smex, we have to have an actual plot. That sounds hard."

"Actually," Mello leaned forward to whisper to Matt. "Don't tell anyone, but that's not entirely true. I mean theoretically, we could spend an entire story just having asinine conversations and making fun of horrible clichés and people would still probably read it."

"Really?"

"Totally. Plot is for wimps. Speaking of which… I know what we can do! We haven't even mentioned our tragic backgrounds yet! Let's share our feelings!"

"Really?"

"Anything to keep you away from my backside, Matt. So uh, I guess you can start. Tell me about your past."

Matt fell silent. His eyes were wide and Mello could tell that he was reliving all his worst memories. Like the time his whole family was brutally killed by those rampaging camels. And the time his only living relative traded him for a pound of hash and a really fancy crack pipe. And the time that Mello had stolen the blue M&M's even though he knew that Matt was saving the best for last. Yeah, Mello still hadn't apologized for that. "Well," he began, his voice quavering in the manliest of ways, "it all started when my family was visiting the Sahara desert. I had to stay home because I had come down with one of those really convenient plot-related illnesses and my parents were jackasses and didn't want to stay home and watch over their son. So they went on vacation with my three brothers, two sisters, five uncles, three aunts, both sets of grandparents, and all my first and second cousins. They were just hanging around, doing normal desert vacation stuff like taunting the camels, and the next thing they know, THEY WERE DEAD!" Matt burst into tears. Manly tears. "And the only relative left was Uncle Vinny from the crack house. I don't even think he's my real uncle!"

Mello patted Matt awkwardly on the back and handed him a tissue, which Matt promptly stuffed in his ear. "I'm… sorry. That's uh… terrible."

Matt sniffled pathetically and blew his nose on Mello's leather shirt, which today resembled something akin to a man-bra. "W-what about y-y-you? Did your w-w-whole f-famly die in a t-t-tragic accident too?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh. They didn't want you anymore?"

"No."

"Your parents were drug addicts and child services took you away?"

"Nope."

"You were abused physically?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Mentally?"

"Not even once."

"Raped?"

"No."

"Molested?"

"No."

"Forced to watch Twilight?"

"Dear God, no."

Matt stared incredulously. "Then why the hell are you here? Everyone knows orphans are the saddest people on the planet! Even sadder than those starving African babies!"

Mello shrugged. "Young adults, not ready to be parents. No big deal. Shit happens."

Matt frowned. "That is so damn boring. You know, I think we're like… legally obligated to kick you out of the story for this."

"Really? I can leave?"

"Nah, I was just messing with you. You're not allowed to leave the story until every thing that made you a unique and wonderful character has been trampled and spat on."

"Figures."

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**Reviews? =]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter one of this story now has an adorable little chibi drawing! There is a link on my profile. Please go check it out and give the artist love. She's awesome and puts up with my constant sneaking into her room at six in the morning to make coffee. =]**

**And here's the link, in case it hasn't shown up on my profile yet. Just take out the spaces!**

**http : / / dormantself. deviantart . com / # / d32bbrj**

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Now that Matt and Mello had finished discussing their tragic, or lack thereof, pasts, the story had come to a complete standstill. Mello was at a loss for what to do. He had used every trick he knew of to keep Matt occupied and off his ass. They had gone shopping and to the movies and the museum and the aquarium and Uncle Vinny's crack house. But now he had run out of options. The gleam of sexual predation in Matt's eye was growing stronger by the moment, probably because he had gotten hold of a gigantic magnifying glass and was holding it in front of his face.

Mello looked to the author desperately for some help. Maybe if she actually opened up a Word document and typed something semi-intelligible, the story could go in a different direction. One that didn't end up with man-sex. But the author was busy gloating over her two reviews, especially the one that said her story was 'incorrigible'. Big words meant it was good, right?

Luckily for Mello, the author remembered that fanfiction was totes more important than real life and any midterm in Medieval Intellectual Traditions she may or may not have coming up in a week. After all, people on the internet were expecting MOAR. And everyone knows popularity on the internet makes your opinions important.

"So," Mello said to Matt, struggling to put on his fantastically tiny leather vest. "You ready for another chapter that consists of nothing more than us exchanging a few lines of meaningless dialogue, that may or may not end on a vaguely funny one-liner?" He gave up trying to force his arms through the sleeves and settled for just draping it around his neck like an ascot.

"I guess," sighed Matt He had been in a funk ever since the authors lack of sexual experience had hindered all of their make out scenes, turning them into nothing more than overgrown clichés and slobber fests. He lit up his twenty fifth cigarette in two minutes as he adjusted his awesome Hot Topic website goggles, that he totally wore to hide his pain and sorrow from the world, and not because he thought they looked cool.

"Cool," replied Mello, eating five chocolate bars in one gigantic bite. Matt had been teaching him that awesome fist-stuffing-in-mouth trick and it really helped to increase his chocolate intake. He was now steadily on his way to childhood obesity. "You know, Matt… something seems… different."

"I know what you mean," Matt said, as he lit a few strands of hair on fire on accident. "Kind of like… we're doing something new?"

"Yeah! Almost like the author completely forgot about the habits of the characters she was writing about!" Mello pulled a two ton of box of chocolate from under his bed and started breaking it open.

"Exactly! It's possible to smoke two cigarettes at once, right? Oh well, it's not like anyone notices that sort of thing. The author can probably just slip it in there. Readers are dumb anyway. They won't notice. Shit, that was my last cig! Come with me to buy some more!"

Mello stared at Matt. "You know Matt, you've been oddly coherent for the last few paragraphs. Almost like you're getting smart-" Mello stopped midsentence as Matt tried to tie his left shoe onto his right hand. "Never mind."

As Matt struggled to find an appendage onto which to attach his other shoe, Mello had a deep and meaningful thought. He quickly realized fanfiction was no place for anything that requires more than two brain cells and dismissed it. Instead he settled for another pertinent question. "Matt, I've been wondering… how old are we supposed to be?"

"Huh?" Matt looked at Mello with one eye. The other covered by the sock he had stuffed into his goggles. "Uh… how old is the author?"

"Twenty."

"Yeah than that's probably a good bet."

Mello shook his head. "We can't be twenty. We're still living in an orphanage!"

"Seventeen?"

"No, that would make way too much sense! We need an age where the ability to maintain a proper relationship and communicate effectively with human beings is practically nonexistent. You know, the age where boys are just beginning to think about sex, and are therefore obviously capable of being complete sexual dynamos in bed. Also, it needs to be really, really disgusting and shameful when you finish reading and realize that you just read about two little kids boinking each other."

"Sixteen?"

"Nope."

"Fifteen?"

"No way."

"Thirteen?"

"That's perfect!"

"We're thirteen?" Matt cried. "God, that's just a terrible choice! My IQ in this story is so far south of normal it's practically negative and even _I_ think that's a horrible idea! There's no way any self-respecting person could believe that! Willing suspension of belief couldn't possibly stretch that far!"

"There it is again," said Mello in disbelief. "You're saying whole paragraphs without stuffing something down your throat or accidently poking your own eye out! What the hell, man?"

"Consistency is hard!" shouted Matt, simultaneously swallowing several batteries while wearing all his clothes inside out, bashing his DS against his head and tripping over his own feet. "Now how about that anal penetration?"

"God, this whole chapter might as well just not have happened!" cried Mello. "This was literally a waste of four minutes of your life. I hope you're happy," he shot an angry look at Matt. Or at the author. It was pretty unclear at that point. "I hope the next chapter has something semi-interesting in it."

"Butt pirates!"

"I hate life."

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**I love you all readers. No matter how many mean jokes I make. **


	5. Chapter 5

**This story now has cover art! Once again, the link is on my profile! Go give some love to the artist, otherwise she'll probably cut my hair off in the middle of the night.**

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It was many days later and the story had been hi-jacked by an absurdly long author's note about the mega-super-awesomely important things going on in the author's life. Like what she had for breakfast that morning, and that one weird noise her dog made last night and her shocking realization that forcing her hair to go from fuchsia to platinum blonde is gonna take a hell of a lot more than two boxes of hair dye and a blow dryer.

When the author finally pulled her disappointingly un-platinum-blonde head from her caluculus homework, she was faced with a horrible situation that was most definetly, probably, most likely not her fault in any way what so ever.

"Ughhhhh," Mello moaned piteously. "Seriously Matt, could you just stay on the other side of the room? The smell is just… no."

"Oh yeah, cause you and your nasty-ass leather are sooo much better," Matt snapped back at him.

"God, why don't we have any other clothes?" said Mello, stuffing a fifteenth Kleenex up his nose in an attempt to keep his brain cells from frying from the smell of unwashed teenage boy.

"I don't know!" Matt cried, too overcome by the agonizing burning sensation in his nose to even attempt to eat a battery. At this point, his body probably needed the chemicals to survive, especially since they never seemed to eat anything in this story, because describing people eating is incredibly boring. "It's like living in the Bog of Eternal Stench!"

"Don't try and use pop culture references from one of the best movies of all time to make this shitty story seem better! And I don't want to hear you complain," Mello said, drops of blood now welling in the corners of his eyes. "You're not the one wearing dead cow for pants! At least the shirt's almost gone now though." Mello's vest had grown so abnormally small that he had now resorted to tying a string to either end and wearing it over one eye like some sort of fetish-bondage pirate.

Yeah, good luck un-seeing that image.

The author quickly realized her mistake. Not only had she not given a single thought to the daily needs of living human beings, like food, water, and the need to change clothes occasionally, she had also inadvertently passed up on the greatest joys writing fanfiction has to offer. Writing page after page of describing character's outfits in excruciating detail!

Before they knew it, Matt and Mello were decked out in all that Hot Topic's website had to offer. Because that's the coolest store the author knows and her mom totally won't let her wear clothes from there. But that's okay, the only reason these characters exist in the first place is to fulfill all the awkward pre-pubescent fantasies of thirteen year olds everywhere.

Matt was now adorned with Tripp pants that were several times too big for him. A long fish-net shirt that was in no way absolutely ridiculous looking and absurdly hard to wear in everyday life. He was also wearing boots and wrist cuffs with spikes on them. There were spikes on the pants too. And on the shirt. It was one of those special, deadly fish-net shirts. In fact, he sort of looked like a human version of an iron maiden.

Mello was wearing some equally as ridiculous and difficult to wear sounding outfit. It was probably black and represented his deep hatred of society and conforming to social norms. Plus, the shirt probably had Good Charlotte on the front, cause they're all about sticking it to the man. Like hardcore, man. Luckily for fans of fetish-bondage pirates everywhere, he still had the leather eyepatch.

"Well great," said Mello, struggling to lift his arm through the twenty layers of arm bands with bleeding hearts and broken wings and dead puppies on them. "At least we don't smell. But you know," he watched Matt attempt to cut himself free of the immense tangle his fish-net shirt and knee spikes had made. "This story is getting really boring."

"Completely," said Matt, his hair now caught in the mess. "And I haven't even made my obligatory butt-rape comment yet."

"Maybe we should go find some other characters. You know, liven things up a bit?"

"There's other characters in this series?"

"Yeah, you know: L, Near, Light, Mikami, that Misa guy."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about them! Hmmm," Matt finally emerged from his tangled clothing, several chunks of hair missing. "Weren't there some other people too… like uh… a guy with gray hair? Or something? And maybe one having to do with the police… I think?"

"God no," scoffed Mello. "Anyone over the age of thirty isn't worth mentioning. You know that! But seriously, is anyone even reading this anymore? I'm pretty sure they could go watch paint dry for awhile. It'd be about the same."

Neither Matt or Mello realized that this story no longer had any intention of following any sort of planned out and well conceived plot, and was instead going to waste its time dallying in the ever-so-fulfilling art of meaningless time-wasting. If they had known, they might have run their now dangerously malnourished and gothic clothes wearing butts as far away as they could. Instead, however, Mello packed up a giant box of chocolate and Matt threw several packs of Double AA's into a backpack and together, they ventured forth from their room to find the rest of the characters, because, let's face it, the last three chapters have literally been them sitting in their room talking about nothing.

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**God, I love the movie Labyrinth.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Newwwwww**

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Matt and Mello burst forth from the dark crevice that was their room at Wammy's, full of excitement and trepidation about the world outside. Matt was excited to explore other, different flavors of batteries that existed beyond his double A diet. Mello just wanted to talk to someone who could go an entire conversation without drooling.

However, the world outside was not much what they had imagined it to be.

"Wow," said Mello, looking around the gray halls of Wammy's. "I wasn't expecting it to be so… bland."

Matt tilted his head to the side to stare down the dull hallway. "I don't see anything."

"You're wearing sunglasses, Matt."

"Oh!" Matt quickly removed his shades, poking himself in the eye.

"Hmmm," Mello said, cautiously poking open a boring, wooden door to reveal an undescribed room. He explored a bit more and discovered that every room was the same, descriptionless box. "Why is it so… dreary out here?"

"Because," Matt piped up, holding a hand over his swollen eye, "it's hard to flesh out an entire world in writing. The author already used all the descriptive words she knows describing our room. Half of them went solely into talking about our badass outfits."

Mello frowned and then opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly he heard the sound of chewing coming from somewhere down the hall. He motioned to Matt to follow him, and then in a way completely void of the caution two people being trained to replace the greatest detective in world would possess, they proceeded to make as much noise as humanly possible running towards the sound.

Mello skidded to a halt after the bend in the hallway, nearly colliding with the three people standing there. There was an old guy, who was obscenely old with gray hair and other old-guy features. There was a young man with midnight colored hair, which in case you were wondering, is totally a poetic way of saying black. His bad posture was so exaggerated that he was almost bent in half at the waist. In fact it was a wonder how he was holding himself up. As Mello watched, he lifted an entire cake to his mouth and ate it one bite. The movement jostled the chain that ran between his wrist and the third man. This guy was also young. He was impeccably well groomed and had an air of confidence about him, like a model or an insurance agent. Also, his clothes were sort of preppy, so he must have been evil.

"Who are you?" Mello demanded, as if he owned the place. Because he might as well have; Wammy's didn't seem to actually have any other orphans.

"I'm L," answered the man with the cake immediately. He pointed at the ridiculously old guy. "That's Watari. He's mostly just here to carry the cake. Technically, you should already know that, since you're being groomed to become me one day, which by the way, I don't find creepy in the slightest. But let's just ignore that. And that," he pointed at the evil prep, "is Light Yagami. Don't let his appearance fool you. He may look fluffy and harmless, but he's actually quite dangerous. Like a rose with thorns, or a mutant lab rat that's gained opposable thumbs and the ability to think due to genetic testing and breaks out of its cage to massacre its creators."

"L!" Mello gasped with fan-girlish delight. "I've wanted to meet you my entire life! Even though technically I've already met you once. I say so in Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. But never mind that, I don't consider that book canon anyway. But why is the Gap model handcuffed to you?"

"Because," L answered, taking three slices of pie from Watari and stuffing them down his throat, "he's my main suspect in the Kira case."

"The what?"

"Eh," L waved his hand dismissively. "It's not really important anyway, Maurice.

"Mello."

"I'm plenty calm already, Michael"

"No, my name is Mello."

"Marty?"

"No."

"Madison?"

"No."

"Mary-Sue?"

"Hey," Matt said, and everybody remembered that he was in this scene too. "I think I dated a girl named that once. Or maybe she was my sister?"

"Me too," said everyone in the room, including Watari.

"Oh well," L continued, "I don't need to know your name anyway, Mark. To use a stupid saying- I'm putting all my figurative eggs in that one albino's kid's basket. I don't really care about second best."

Mello took a step back and his eyelid twitched. He thought it made him look dangerous, but mostly it just looked like he was having a seizure. "I hate always being second to that stupid Near!" he shouted. "This gives me ineffectual teenager rage! I'd totally lash out at the people I loved if I actually had any! God, I'm just like Harry Potter in the Order of the Phoenix!"

"Well," said L, motioning to Watari to hand him a bowl of pudding. "This has been a colossal waste of my precious time. I'm not even sure why I came. In retrospect, bringing my biggest suspect to meet my heirs seems like a horrible idea. See ya!" He turned and trudged off, pulling a thoroughly disgruntled Light behind him.

Mello hung his head, and Matt clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He seemed nice," Matt decided.

"I hate you so much, Matt."

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**Reviews get me through exam week alive. =]**


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are awesome.**

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Mello wasn't really sure what to do now, standing in the hallway after having all his dreams crushed and the last decade and a half of his existence rendered meaningless. He hadn't really counted on L being an unlikeable douchebag. He was filled with the kind of sadness that one only feels after watching a puppy get punched in the face, or watching Kristin Stewart try to act.

He was just starting to think that maybe it was time to shed some manly, manly tears when a voice came over the Wammy's House intercom. "This is Roger. Near and that blonde chick with the leather fetish, please report to my office immediately. That is all."

Matt removed his hand from Mello's shoulder and tapped a finger against his head in thought. "Hmmm, I think I know what chick he's talking about. She's hot."

Mello sighed heavily and choked back his testosterone-laden tears. He thought about reapplying his makeup, but figured that his nifty leather eyepatch was enough. Although, it was still doing that weird shrinking thing, but no big deal. He could always turn it into a bracelet or something.

"Matt," Mello said, turning to the redhead. "Stay here. I'm going to go talk to Roger, although I don't know why I bother. Don't move until I come back."

Matt giggled. "You said 'come'."

"And we've resorted to sex jokes. I'm gonna go now." Mello trudged his second-best self to Roger's office, wondering what the other old guy could possibly want. _You know, _Mello thought to himself, _why are there even two old guys in this story? Isn't one enough? I'm sick of looking at 'em. Makes my eyes tired. _

After walking for a bit down the mundane halls of the orphanage, Mello reached Roger's door and swung it open to reveal Roger, sitting at his desk, looking quite grave, and a small sheep sitting on the floor doing a puzzle.

No, wait. It wasn't a sheep. It was just Near. In fact, the author forced Mello to smack his head repeatedly into the doorframe in apology for describing him as a sheep, because having white hair doesn't make a person resemble a sheep any more than having shadows under their eyes makes them resemble a panda. What part of ruthless genius just screams innocence to you?

"This better be good Roger," said Mello. "I'm late for my eyebrow waxing appointment, and you know how important those are to me."

Roger sighed wearily, and said, "L is dead."

Near didn't look up from his puzzle. Mello however, launched himself at Roger's desk. He nearly lost his balance and fell over it, but caught himself and shouted, "Didn't he just leave, like, five minutes ago? Was it Kira? Did Kira kill him? …Also, who is Kira? I don't think we really covered that yet."

"No," Roger replied. "He was hit by a bus."

"Oh," Mello got off of Roger's desk and stood up.

"Are you sure Kira didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Well…" Roger stroked his chin in thought. "We have eighteen eyewitnesses who say they saw Light Yagami push him in front of the bus. And we have surveillance footage from three surrounding stores. And a hand-written note, signed and dated by Light that says he did it. But it's probably all just circumstantial."

"I'm gonna find Kira and kill him!" Mello said "I'm going to avenge L. Even though he was kind of a sadistic douchebag. And I'll do it without Near's help!"

"Who said I offered you any?" said Near from his spot on the floor.

"Shut up," Mello replied. "It's not like anyone actually gets your characterization right anyway."

Mello turned and stormed out of the office. Because fifteen is a totally plausible age to start living on your own and joining the mafia.

"Matt!" he ran up to the redhead, who was still in the same spot Mello had left him in. "I'm leaving. And you can't come with me."

"Why not?" Matt looked at him in confusion. "It's the perfect time for us to express our young, gay love! You know, in between the hunting down murderers and blowing shit up."

"Matt, I'm going to be completely honest with you." Mello put a hand on either of Matt's shoulders and looked him square in the eye. "Gingers freak me the fuck out. Bye."

And he turned and ran the run of a man who has nothing left in this world but his own determination and wicked case of chaffing from his ridiculously tight leather pants.

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**Reviews? I'll love you even more.**

**And also... Near is my favorite character. And I hate the characterization he gets from the fandom. Makes my eyes tired. Haha.**


	8. Chapter 8

**New chapter.**

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After a few minutes, Mello had to stop running. It was partly because of the mad case of chaffing his pants were giving him and partly due to the fact that since his main form of exercise was running from Matt when he wanted yaoi tiemz, he was in pretty awful shape. In fact his diet of chocolate bars should have given him a muffin-top, like it would to any normal person. Luckily, Mello had one of those nifty, plot-required metabolisms, because being anything less than bishounen got you kicked out the story faster than you could say Watari.

Now that he had run all the way down the block, Mello decided he had fulfilled the requirements of a dramatic exit, and could actually stop to think about what his next step should be. He knew it would take Matt at least a half an hour to figure out how to work the front door, so he didn't have to worry about being followed just yet.

But what to do now? He needed food, water, shelter, and fuck it if anyone thought he was living without indoor plumbing. But first, he decided, he would need a gun. This was of course, a perfectly logical conclusion to come to, because starvation and exposure are no worry for teenage runaways compared to pedophiles and rapists.

Luckily, he knew just where he could pick up a gun. There was this one place that had no problem selling guns to obviously underage children. It was located conveniently close by, right next to the Drink 'Til You Drop underage bar, Arsenic 'N' Things, and Build-A-Bomb.

As Mello walked down the street to the store, passing by five prostitutes, eight junkies, and a guy selling crystal meth out of the trunk of his car, he wondered idly why anyone would put these stores so close to an orphanage. Then he decided it probably because everyone knows that orphans are the most messed up people on the planet, and there was no way that any of them could live normal, happy lives.

A few minutes later, Mello walked back out of Gun's 'N' More, clutching a terribly generic silver shotgun. I mean, pistol. Handgun? Actually, how about a rifle, since that's the only one that the author knows anything about.

Of course, no one looked twice about at the blonde kid wearing a ridiculously small leather eyepatch, and holding a rifle. That was apparently quite the common sight in Wherever, England.

_Ok, _thought Mello, _I have my big-ass gun, and I got rid of that creepy ginger kid. Now what?_

The author knows that he's supposed to eventually end up in California, but to be honest she slept through that part of the anime and didn't feel like it was fully explained. Maybe it was in the manga, but those things are expensive and reading is for nerds. So is doing actual research into the fandom you're writing for.

So, with that destination in mind, Mello used some more of plot-magic to charm his way through customs at the airport without any kind of passport and hauling a rifle, two shotguns, a sub-machine gun, and three pistols. He had decided to pick up some more guns, because he heard California had that gay pride parade thing going on, and he didn't want to run into any more Matts without proper protection.

Shortly after arriving in California, Mello made his way to the nearest Mafia hideout. This was, of course, super easy, since the Mafia is known for it's friendly and helpful signs.

Mello pulled out two of his pistols, and readied himself to run charging into the Mafia hideout. He was going to become the boss. Never mind that his years of extensive education and training should have warned him a least a little bit against charging headfirst into a gang of Mafia members. He was the main character, so it would like he could die, right?

Right?

Of course, that's right. Character death involves writing actual emotions. Besides, then Matt would have no one to have hot yaoi tiemz with. Remember kids, necrophilia is wrong.

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**One thing I want to make perfectly clear: For the love of crap, please don't take me seriously guys. I write because I think it's fun, not to tell everyone else how they should write. I'm pretty sure I've used most, if not all of the cliches I've made fun of in this story.**

**So the point of my mini-rant: Write whatever you want, and to hell with what anyone else says. **

**=] You guys rock.**


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